


Harry's Good Hair Day

by oddishly



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were little glowy lights in Draco's hair, and they were distracting Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry's Good Hair Day

There were little glowy lights in Draco's hair, and they were distracting Harry. Little glowy lights had no business in Draco's hair. They belonged in lanterns and in the lake on clear nights and beneath the door to Fred and George's room, and very occasionally they appeared in Draco's eyes, but never, _ever_ in his hair.

Harry frowned and stretched across the sofa to touch one of the lights, just in case he was imagining them. He didn't _think_ he was, but you never knew, because he'd imagined Draco calling him 'Harry' a little while ago. That had been a funny thing to imagine. Imaginary Draco had been whining about a cursed Snitch or Ron or maybe it had been Harry's hair – probably that – when he'd said, "Really, Harry, there's no excuse for –" and then stopped talking, his long, pale fingers disappearing from where Harry had been watching them flutter around in the air. When Harry's brain caught up with his ears, he felt something jack-in-a-box into his throat, and opened his mouth to say, _Hey, you called me Harry, _but he'd been distracted by those lights in Draco's eyes and it had turned into, "Your cheeks are all – purple." But then the lights had gone out and Draco had snapped something about Harry being a brainless Hufflepuff - Harry had definitely been in Gryffindor - and that he was imagining things.

Harry had thought this over for a moment then nodded. That made much more sense than Draco having purple cheeks. Maybe he'd imagined the bit about being in Hufflepuff, too.

After a second he'd decided that was probably true as well. But ... oh, god, did that mean he'd imagined Draco? Harry had looked up hurriedly to check, and had to take a deep breath when he saw Draco looking back at him, the little glowy lights back in his eyes.

Oh yeah, the lights. Harry shook his head for a second to clear it – he thought he might be a _teensy weensy eensy _bit drunk, actually – then lifted his hand towards Draco's head again. Draco didn't notice, because he was staring at something on the floor with a complicated expression on his face. Harry shifted forward on the sofa to see what was making Draco ignore him.

A fluffy ... a fluffy black cushion was lying lopsidedly against the edge of the sofa.

Harry watched the cushion for a moment to see if it was going to do anything, then sat back again and stared at Draco staring at the cushion.

This looked like it was going to last for a while. Harry coughed a bit to see if Draco had _completely _forgotten about him, and beamed when Draco looked over at him with a startled look on his face.

"What are we waiting for it to do?"

Draco's cheeks had gone all purple again. Harry blinked, then decided to ignore it because it would be too confusing if he was imagining things again. Or, worse, if he wasn't. He waited for Draco to start talking.

 

"I – um, I thought tha' was you. On the floor. But 'snot, obviously. Tha's a cushion. An' you're not a cushion. But you _look_ like a cushion. With the, the hair an' ever'thing. Um."

Harry looked back at the cushion. It still hadn't done anything.

"I look like the cushion ...?" he asked with a dubious look on his face, and Draco nodded vigorously.

"Yeah. With the hair. 's'all black an' bushy an' all over the place. An' horrible. Like the cushion. Only, the cushion's _never _not horrible. An' sometime your hair is. Not horrible, I mean. And the cushion doesn' get those little lights in it like your hair does. But otherwise you look like the cushion."

Harry felt his jaw drop. _Those little lights, _Draco had said. That meant they _both _had little lights in their hair, and while he was _fairly _certain that they shouldn't be in Draco's hair, he was _absolutely _certain they shouldn't be in his own.

Right. Something had to be done about this. Harry looked back at Draco to ask what he thought they should do, and realised that he'd returned to staring at the cushion.

On second thoughts, the lights could wait.

Harry cleared his throat and said "Malfoy!" as clearly as he could manage. Draco jerked his head up.

"Um ... I jus' told you, you look like the cushion. Didn' I?"

Harry tried a smirk at the look on Draco's face.

And immediately regretted it.

"What?" Draco snapped, then took a deep breath.

_Bugger. _

" – like a walking, talking, four-eyed broomstick most of th' time, one tha' doesn' even _own_ a hairbr- a tailbrush; you should be _pleased_ tha' you look like a cushion now. 'snot my fault you have horrible hair –"

_Bugger bugger bugger. _

"- never even seen a _haircut _before, never min' a Hairdressin' Charm-"

_A what?_

... wait.

Harry really, _really _hoped Draco wasn't planning on continuing like this for the rest of the night, because he'd just had a _brilliant _idea that would solve both of their problems at once. Very quietly he said, "Malfoy."

"-tha's prob'ly why the Dark Lord didn't like you much, either, 'cause it hurts just to look at you, an' –"

"Malfoy?"

"-not surprised, really –"

"Draco!"

"..._what, _Potter?"

"Tha's it."

"What's it?"

Honestly, he wasn't normally this slow. "Haircuts. We could, uh, give each other haircuts."

_ "What?" _

"You know, Hairdressin' Charms. What you just said."

Draco was looking at Harry as if he'd suggested they sacrifice a pair of House Elves on a burning pyre in the kitchens; not_ quite_ the reaction Harry'd been hoping for.

"Or, or we could"- Harry flapped his arms around his head in a vague manner -"change the colour, or something."

Draco seemed to have found his voice again. "Potter, are you _insane?" _

Well. That wasn't quite what Harry'd expected, either. "No, think 'bout it, Dr-Malfoy. If you cut my hair, an' I cut yours, then I won' look like the cushion anymore, and it _might _get rid of the li'l glowy lights. See?"

Draco stared at him. "The – the glowy lights."

"Yeah. In our hair," and wasn't it just Harry's luck that Draco had picked _now_ to be difficult? And – was he staring at the cushion _again? _ Harry opened his mouth to snap for Draco's attention, but then Draco's stare shifted back to Harry and – and Harry swallowed, because if he'd been a bit girlier, he'd have said that Draco was _gazing _at him. His eyes were, god, Hermione would have said _stroking_ the curve of his skull, maybe _lingering _around that funny curl on his forehead, probably _caressing _the shell of his ear.

_Shit. _

"Okay."

Harry blinked. "Okay?" That was easy...

"Okay."

_Too easy. _Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. _ "Okay." _

_ "Yes, _ okay. Well," –_ aha! _– "I meant: okay, I'll cut yours. You can, um, you can do mine t'morrow."

_Oh. _Well, brilliant! Draco would cut Harry's hair, and then Harry wouldn't look like a cushion anymore, and maybe the lights would go away, and then he'd be able to get on with – er, with whatever he'd been doing before he'd started watching Draco. Which was ...

Well.

He was sure he'd find something.

Harry smiled brightly in Draco's direction. "Where d'you want me?"

*

Harry's first thought on waking was _why is Draco ... screeching? _ followed straight away by_ urgh, please stop screeching, _because _owwwwwwwww. _What had he been drinking last night? His tongue felt like it might have been replaced with a giant furry caterpillar. And when he rolled over – God, it was entirely possible his head had been filled with sand. Marbles, perhaps. _Urgh. _

"Potter! POTTER!"

_Urghhhh. _Had he fallen asleep on the sofa last night?

"Potter, I'm warning you, WAKE UP!"

What _was _the problem? Harry eased half an eye open, then shut it again hastily as a shape in front of the window whirled around to face him.

Not fast enough, apparently, as Draco shouted, "Up! Get up! Potter, so help me, if this isn't reversible ..."

This had better be good.

Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes fully. Draco was on the other side of the room, stalking from the window to the fireplace and back again without the slightest thought for the state of Harry's head, occasionally throwing what was probably a glare in Harry's direction. Only something ... wasn't quite right. Harry squinted in Draco's direction, wishing he would stop moving, then croaked, "Um. Wha'samatter?"

Draco actually _roared. "This, _Potter, _this _is the matter you –" he picked something off the mantelpiece and threw it at Harry – "blind, moronic _imbecile." _

His glasses. Harry looked at them where they'd landed on the sofa, then slipped them onto his face and turned back to Draco.

And burst out laughing.

"Oh, you think it's _funny, _ do you? Yes, let's have a good old laugh, maybe take a few pictures so all your little friends can laugh about it, too. What do you think, sound like a good idea to you? Hmm? Well, I hate to break it to you, Potter, but that's not going to happen. _What the fuck have you done to my hair?" _

Harry blinked. "What have_ I _\- what did _you _do to your hair? _You're _the one that said you knew everything about Hairdressing Charms, if I remember rightly; _you're_ the one that was casting spells last night!"

"Yes, yes, you're right, how could I have forgotten - oh, right, that's _until _the part where you said I wasn't doing it properly and started waving your wand around like a lunatic! Look! _Look!" _

_... oops._

"Now get over here and tell me how to reverse it. And STOP LAUGHING!"

Harry suppressed another snort as he rolled off the sofa – _owwwwwww_ – then padded across the room to stand beside Draco.

Two faces looked back at him out of the mirror above the mantel; one tomato-red and wild-eyed, the other pale and amused. But ...

"... ah."

"Oh, _now_ he understands. Well _done, _ Potter."

"We've ... we've swapped hair?"

"_Have _we, Potter? Very astute of you to notice, Potter. Do you think –"

Harry rolled his eyes – _owww, sandy eyes, okay, got it, ow-ow-ow _– and said, "Just – shut up a minute, would you? Right. Now – just stay like that. Just for a minute."

Harry stepped up closer to the mirror. They had indeed swapped hair. Where the frames of his glasses normally disappeared into a flurry of tangles, they were now mostly visible through Draco's fine, floppy hair as it fell past Harry's ears. _Weird. _His face looked all ... big. _Really weird. _

Harry looked across at Draco, who, thankfully, was now muttering to himself under his breath about - broomsticks? Harry shook his head quietly. Perhaps he hadn't quite woken up yet. He watched as Draco raised his hand gingerly and wound his fingers into a lock of fluffy hair- _disturbingly _fluffy hair; Harry was sure it wasn't that fluffy on him - then, with a rather strange look on his face, released it.

The question was, had they _swapped_ hair? Or had whatever Harry had done – _oops, really really oops_ – just changed their own hair?

_Um. _

Harry darted a quick glance at Draco in the mirror. He was watching Harry with a frown, but looked away to his own – Harry's own? – mop of black hair as soon as their eyes met.

Harry stared at him for a second longer then turned back. Maybe – he lifted a hand, hesitated for half a second, then reached up to run his fingers through his hair. He let it slip across his knuckles and into his eyes, then did it again.

Well. Harry wasn't too sure what it was he could smell all of a sudden – _mint, cauldron-fires, the morning rain _– but it certainly wasn't anything like the _Hubbley Bubbley _shampoo on the shower-ledge at Grimmauld Place. _Right. Swapped. _

... does he expect me to know what to do?

Harry sighed. He didn't have the foggiest, and his head _really _hurt, and the temptation was just too hard to resist. He lifted his hands to his hair again.

_Fuck. Just ... fuck. _

Harry bit his lip and looked back at Draco, who'd returned to watching him. He had a strange look in his eyes, as if - as if he couldn't _quite_ hold in a smile. This time, though, he didn't turn away, but held Harry's gaze in the mirror as he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Harry's ear. Harry felt his breath hitch and tried to keep his voice steady as he said, "Doesn't look quite as good on me as it does on you."

Draco's lip quirked into a smile. "Well – no, Potter, that would defeat the object."

Harry rolled his eyes, then swallowed as Draco took a step towards him. He could still feel Draco's hands behind his ear. "I, um, I don't know how to change it back. I'll Floo Hermione – oh no, they're in Australia, aren't they – um, well, I suppose we could try –"

"Potter. Harry. I ... cannot believe I'm saying this, but it's okay."

Harry raised his eyebrows, and Draco grinned at him.

"Well. It's not, and you can help me revise Wolfsbane and Moonshine later, but I can live with it until we get to Selena's."

"R-right," Harry stuttered. Draco was barely a foot away, lips curving and eyes crinkled at the edges. And – "Hey. Little glowy lights. Thought I'd imagined them. It's their fault, you know."

Draco stopped. Urgh, Draco-with-fluffy-Harry-hair was _really _confusing. "Little ... Potter. Are you still drunk?"

Harry rolled his eyes wryly and replied, "Er, no. Hungover, yes. Tired, very. And this –" Harry ruffled Draco's newly-short hair, thrilling at the spark that ran up his arm, "-is beyond weird. But I'm not still drunk."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Huh."

Harry could smell the _Hubbley Bubbley _by this point, and Draco's nose couldn't be more than three inches from his own, and his heart was about to beat itself out of his chest ...

_Beat._

Beat.

Beat.

Beatbeatbeatbeatbeat.

Why was nothing happening?

"Hey, Harry?"

... _huh._

"Yeah?"

"Remind me to thank those little glowy lights, won't you?"

"... no problem."

The lights in Draco's eyes were blazing as Harry leaned towards him.

*


End file.
